Swords and Spells: The Magic of Emrys (Book One)
by Jade Nocturna
Summary: Emrys has always known that it is her destiny to turn the spoiled Prince Arthur Pendragon into the greatest king Camelot has known since...well, the last Arthur Pendragon. But if Emrys guides Arthur to his destiny, she leads herself to her own doom. Emrys could change her fate, but the Ancient Order would require another life in her stead: Arthur's.
1. Prologue

The Dark Prophecy

A year shall come when stars go dark

When faith and hope have gone-

For then shall rise a child who spells

The end for Avalon

A savior born beneath the stars

The worlds' fate theirs to bear

Will be the Merlin of that time

**The wizard's own true heir **


	2. Emrys

When the King of Blood wanted to make a point, he made it as sharp as possible.

It was midday. With bone-chilling thugs, the executioner's ax fell upon the necks of three accused sorcerers, severing their heads from their bodies. The blood dripped through the stocks and spread across the smooth stone ground. All Emrys could do was watch in horror as the heads were mounted on tall spikes in the palace square for all to see.

Three boys who'd barely reached manhood, now dead for being menaces and troublemakers. The severed heads stared at the crowd with blank eyes and slack expressions. Crimson blood trickled down the wooden spikes while the bodies were taken away to be burned.

The king did not give second chances-especially not to anyone who practiced magic. Sorcery would be dealt with swiftly and remorselessly-and publicly.

Every time that blade was used, a growing uneasiness slithered through emrys like a heavy mist she could no longer ignore. Camelot had once been peaceful and prosperous and magical-but now someone with a taste for blood was seated upon the throne.

The castle glittered before the crowd like a massive golden crown, its spires rising high up into the cloudless blue sky. It was set in the direct center of the upper town, a walled city two miles wide and deep. Inside, cobbled roads led to villas, businesses, taverns, and shops. only the privileged and important were able to make this part of the city their home. But today, the gates had opened to all who wished to see the execution.

"There were more than usual today," said Emrys as she shifted her attention from the impaled heads. for three weeks, she'd attended an execution, and it had done little to reassure her of her own fate.

Such deaths would be considered by most to be destiny. the druids that emrys had grown up with believed that their futures were set and that they had to accept what they were given-be it good or bad.

Emrys, of all people, knew that everyone's destinies were written in stone. But stone could be broken, and destinies could change. And that was what Emrys was going to do.

"It is the king's birthday." Silas' voice was hard to separate from the incessant chatter of the throng.

The crowd hushed for the briefest of moments before swelling murmur rose again. King Uther had emerged onto the balcony-a tall, handsome man with piercing blue eyes that chilled Emrys' spine every time he glanced over her.

The regal-looking Princess Morgana joined her father on his left side. Her dark black hair was curled around her fair face; her skin shone like a shimmering pearl. She didn't look at the impaled heads.

The crowd cheered as a young man joined the others on the balcony. It was the first time that Emrys had ever see him, but she knew who he was: Arthur Pendragon, crown prince to King Uther's throne. Arthur was a near mirror image of his father, but younger, of course, and with golden hair that caught in the sunlight.

A drunken voice from the crowd shouted out, loud enough to be heard over everyone else: "Fools! Every last one of you! You think he means to unite us as a happy kingdom? Lies! The King of Blood is driven only by greed and a lust for power! He's trying to destroy magic! He must be stopped, or we're all doomed!"

Silence fell.

Emrys' gaze shot toward the king to see if he'd heard.

He had. With a flick of the king's hand, four guards marched toward the crowd, located the man, and wrenched him forward so forcefully that he fell to his knees just left of where the severed heads were on display. When he tried to rise, a guard pushed him back down. the empty bottle he clutched in his right hand fell to the ground.

The man wore what looked like finely tailored clothes that had slowly tattered to rags. His face held a few weeks' worth of a dark bears and he smelled as if he hadn't bathed in the same amount of time. His eyes were glazed with however much wine he'd consumed, but otherwise were fiercely fixed on those who now faced him.

"My name is Noren Wetherson," cried the man. "I have suffered personally at your hand, Uther Pendragon, because of your wretched hatred of magic!"

"Camelot's future will not benefit from the use of magic."

"If you truly believe that, then you've damned us to a future of pain-but I assure you, yours holds the very same! And may the gods deal with me, be it ever so severely, if, by today's end, my words have not come true!"

Noren's dark eyes turned bright yellow. "Gadewch i'r tywydd yr haf, maent, yn carcarem circumvertentem!"

Emrys could feel the shift of power in the earth, feel her xoia yearn to bind itself to this power-this magic. Her insides opened themselves to the magic around her, suddenly opening her vision to all of the auras around her. At first she was blinded by the mix of colors, but after a moment, her vision adjusted. Noren's aura was as bright a yellow as his eyes, a warning of the dangerous spirit that rested inside of him.

Emrys turned to look at the balcony, and nearly jumped when she saw the silver eyes above the castle. She knew that it was the eyes of the Great Dragon that she had envisioned. She tried to touch the Great Dragon's spirit with her xoia, reaching out to him with her very being.

Please, Great Dragon, where are you?

With a sudden snap! Emrys was forced out of her connection to Noren's magic. The earth had given him the power he needed to cast his spell. A spiral of wind forced the guards away from Noren and whipped around his gray cloak. With a laugh as the crowd ran from him, Noren disappeared from sight.

The king tried to soothe the troubled crowd and ordered the guards to conduct another witch hunt. He swore to protect the kingdom from the evils of sorcery.

"Emrys," said Silas, placing his hand on the small of her back, "we should return now."

The thought of going into the castle after the execution sickened Emrys. Besides, she had to find the Great Dragon. "If it's alright with you, Uncle, I'd prefer to stay out a while longer."

"That's fine, but no more than an hour, Emrys-you still haven't completed your chores! And, Emrys, this time, stay within the walls."

Emrys nodded and followed the cobbles into the lower town, where the simplest of citizens resided-and where the dreaded wall ended. Unlike the gates to the upper town, there were no castle guards at the forest entrance. There were only the volunteers from the lower town, and they were more than willing to let Emrys pass if she promised to bring back flowers for them.

Emrys hated to lie to Silas, but there was no helping it this time. She had to find the Great Dragon. Emrys just knew she was close to finding him, but she wished she knew how close she was. There were only so many places the Great Dragon could be in Camelot; and there was only one place Emrys hadn't searched yet: the dark woods, where the Great Dragon's eyes had just appeared.

The only birds that sang in the dark woods were the ravens. They screeched at Emrys as she passed them, alerting the forest of her presence. Strangely, Emrys did feel as if she was being watched by her surroundings. With each step, her heart beat faster and faster.

Emrys tried to hold on to her courage, but the snapping of the twigs around her forced her to turn around and return to the path. Maybe she would be able to convince one of the guards to accompany her the next time she wanted to go. Thinking about the guards made Emrys remember to grab a handful of dandelions for them. After she'd passed out the flowers, she realized she had an extra one.

Emrys folded the flower into her skirts and followed the side streets through the upper town-anywhere the wouldn't take her too close to the palace. It was bad enough she could see the cursed thing from her bedroom window.

"You're back much earlier than I expected," said Silas when she entered the villa.

Emrys smiled. "If you stopped thinking I was so reckless, I wouldn't surprise you so much."

"I suppose I do owe you an apology. I'd assumed that you'd gone outside the walls again."

"Well, I'm not entirely innocent." She placed the extra flower on the book he was reading. "I did go out and pick this for you."

Silas glanced at the yellow weed, suddenly seeming much older. His almond-colored skin folded just above his eyebrows as he let out an exasperated sigh. "I should've known," he whispered. "Don't forget your chores, Emrys."

She grimaced. "Wouldn't dream of it."

"I'd like for you to finish those quickly. I need you to accompany me to the castle later this afternoon."

This time, Emrys couldn't suppress her groan. "I'm afraid I'm still not in the mood to visit the castle. And, quite frankly, I don't know how you can go either. I don't understand why you serve Uther so loyally after he's caused this kingdom so much pain and distress."

"Emrys!" Silas shook his head disapprovingly. "There are many things I allow you to do under my roof, but treason is not one of them. Despite any mistakes he has made, Uther is still our king, and he deserves our respect."

Emrys didn't believe that, but she didn't argue with Silas any further. "My apologies, Uncle."

"We'll go to the castle after you've finished your chores. Hurry, please."

Emrys did as he asked. Her room wasn't half as clean as she'd remembered it being that morning-but that could be easily fixed. Emrys shut the door and raised her hands to the clutter of books and clothes on her floor.

Nothing happened. The books didn't move, the clothes didn't put themselves away, and Emrys' eyes didn't glow the way they usually did when she used magic.

Instead, darkness fell over her, and Emrys collapsed.

Rays of sunshine warmed her skin with the heat of a summer's day. And slowly, slowly, she opened her eyes, blinking to clear her vision. The colors were so vivid and bright that she had to shield her eyes until she became used to the unexpected intensity.

Emrys looked down, realizing that her simple dress had transformed into flowing white silk, a beautiful gown with gold embroidery at the edges of the bodice.

A cluster of fragrant trees circled her. The scent of wildflowers filled the warm air. Soft grass pressed against her palms as she pushed herself up enough to take in her surroundings.

At first glance, the tree that sat in front of her appeared to be like any other, but a second revealed that it wasn't. The tree was much larger than anything Emrys had ever seen-maybe even tall enough to look down on the castle itself. The tree shimmered as if made from crystal, the branches sweeping to the ground like delicate glass feathers. The grass underneath it was not only emerald green, but was swirled together with silver and gold as if each blade had been dipped in precious metal. The lake that rested within the tree's trunk sparkled in the daylight as if coated in diamonds.

It was all so strange and beautiful that for a long, breathless moment Emrys couldn't look away.

"Where am I," she whispered.

"Welcome to the Great Tree of Avalon, Emrys."

Her head whipped back in the direction of the trees to see that a young man was approaching. She fought to rise to her feet as quickly as possible, scrambling back from him a few steps.

"Stay back!" she warned. Her heart beat like a wild thing trapped in her chest. "Don't come any closer."

"I mean you no harm."

Emrys opened her xoia but didn't see anything to determine his aura. Why would she believe him? She clenched her fist and summoned fire magic. Her hand burst into flame. "I can't promise the same if you dare to take another step."

He was now only five paces from her. He cocked his head and studied her hand as if fascinated. "Fire magic is the most unpredictable piece of xoia. You should be careful how you choose to wield it."

"And you should be careful when sneaking up on me if you don't want to be burned."

All Emrys could do was stare at the single most beautiful boy she'd seen in her entire life. Tall and lean, with golden skin, his hair burnished bronze, his eyes the color of dark silver. He wore a loose white shirt and white pants and he stood barefoot upon the soft grass.

"I witnessed what you did the last time you used fire magic," he said casually, as if they were having a regular conversation. "Your village elders tried to force you to use your xoia in their presence. You almost reduced everything to ash."

Emrys was still haunted by the smell of burning flesh and tortured screams. "How could you have known that?"

"You'd be surprised what I know about you, Emrys. My name is Baelfire. I am one of those known to mortals as dragons. I've watched over you since you were an infant."

"Dragon." The word caught in her throat and her gaze snapped back to his. "You're a dragon?"

"Yes."

"If you're a dragon, why do you seem so…"

"Mortal?"

"I was going to say 'human', actually."

"I cannot travel through your dreams in my true form."

"Your true form?"

Baelfire smiled. "Watch me." He stepped backward and raised his hands to his sides. There was a swirling around him, blurring his image for a moment, the air shifting, shimmering, turning.

The next moment, his arms were wings, his skin sporting golden scales that shone beneath the sunlight. With a flap of these wings, he took flight. He hovered over her for a moment or so before descending. Before he touched the ground, he shifted back into the form of a young man. He looked down at himself.

"Usually when I shift form, I don't retain my clothing. It's the only difference you would note in the waking world."

"Then I suppose I should be thankful this is only a dream." Emrys changed the subject to avoid thinking about what Baelfire would've looked like in reality without his coverage. "So this is a dream," she said. "And this place? You said it's the Great Tree of Avalon?"

"This is a copy of the forest where the Tree takes root."

"I've never heard of the Great Tree of Avalon."

"Most mortals haven't."

"Is that why you chose to meet me here?"

"I needed to see you, to introduce myself, and to tell you that I can be of assistance to you. I have wanted to do this for so long."

"Then why have you only introduced yourself now?"

"It wasn't the right time before. Although, believe me, of those of my kind, I am not the most patient. It's been difficult to wait, but I'm introducing myself now. I can help you, Emrys-and you can help me."

"Help you?"

Baelfire cocked his head again. "You can put out the fire, Emrys. I mean you no harm today, I assure you."

With a focused thought, Emrys snuffed out the fire and returned her hand to her side. "How can I help you?"

"You are the sorceress I've been waiting a millenium for."

"That you've been waiting for?"

Baelfire nodded. "Your destiny is tied to my world-the Other World. It's tied to Camelot, to Arthur, to me. Your destiny is tied to the Prophecy, and it always has been."

A wave of nausea rolled over Emrys, as it always did when someone mentioned her destiny. "You've watched me because of the Prophecy."

"Yes. Many didn't believe, but I did. And I waited until you came to Camelot before I could talk to you. To guide you. To help you. Your magic will make the difference to me, to the Other World."

Emrys shook her head. This wasn't what she wanted! "You drew me into this dream because you said you could help me. How?"

"I know you want to escape from your destiny; I can grant your wish, Emrys."

"By forcing me into it?"

"You think you are only destined to do one great thing in your lifetime? You know only a small piece of what has been planned for your life. I know every bit of it!"

"But do you know enough to stop my death? How do you propose to fix that?" Saying it outloud gave way to the fear that she had been able to hide so well.

Baelfire smiled and said, "By making you immortal, Emrys."

Emrys froze, but only for a moment. "That's impossible."

"It is not. I've seen it done before. And in return for granting you eternal life, you must promise me, Emrys, that you will return the favor and help me as well."

"I promise," she said quickly. "Now, how do I become immortal?"

"Immortality is granted only to those with the purest of hearts. I will know the nature of your heart if you can refrain from using your xoia to affect the outcome of another's life."

Emrys could've laughed. "No magic? I'd hardly say that this is a challenge for me. I live in Camelot. With Uther's law, your challenge will only make it easier for me to survive another day."

His silver eyes met hers directly. "You were born with xoia, Emrys. Your magic is far too powerful for you to contain right now and it's only growing stronger by the day. You don't even realize it yet."

"Oh, believe me," she said quietly, "I know how powerful it is."

Baelfire's face turned to the left, his brow creasing deeply. "Someone is waking you up."

"Silas," Emrys breathed, remembering what she'd been doing before this had happened. "When will I see you again?" excerpt

"Mortals need to sleep every day, don't they?" Baelfire suddenly looked as old as Silas. "Emrys, remember our promise."

All she could do was nod.

And then Baelfire, the forest, and the Great Tree of Avalon were gone, disappearing like broken glass falling away and leaving only darkness behind.

Emrys inhaled a sprig of herbs and opened her eyes, She sat up almost immediately, coughing to rid her lungs of the scent. "What was that?"

"Sage," said Silas as he tucked it into his pocket. "What were you doing on the floor, Emrys? It looks like you were slacking off on your chores."

She thanked Silas for giving her an excuse. "Well, if you know what it looked like, why are you asking me?"

Silas let out another long, exasperated sigh. "Enough of this, Emrys. We have to get to the castle."

"But my chores aren't finished," Emrys protested. "Shouldn't I stay home and do them?"

"You mean so you can run off to the dark woods again?" He held the flower she'd given him in his hand. "I'm a physician, Emrys-a collector of herbs and plants of all kinds. I'm well aware of where each one grows. Now, let's get going."

Emrys, speechless and shocked, followed Silas to the castle doors. "What exactly am I supposed to be helping you with?"

"I'm glad you asked," said Silas with a smile. He handed Emrys the basket of medicine he'd brought and then took out a single vial for himself. "I'm afraid I don't have the energy I used to. I can't apply Uther's medication and make the long trek to his children. I need you to give Princess Morgana and Prince Arthur their respective medications. You'll find their names on the vials."

Emrys had no intention of seeing Arthur Pendragon before Baelfire could make her immortal-no need to excite the Fates by meeting her destined. "Isn't there anything else I can do?"

"Would you like to switch jobs with me? If so, I must warn you that Uther is very sensitive around his lower back-the troubles of an old battle wound, I'm afraid."

Emrys tightened her grip on the basket. "I'll go deliver these."

"Morgana's chambers are on the third floor, second to last door on your right. I have no idea where Arthur might be at this time, so you'll have to search for him. Be quick, Emrys."

"I will." She wouldn't be in the castle any longer than she had to be. It reeked of stuffy aristocrats-especially now that the castle was taking in visitors for the king's celebration.

The guests passed by the speared heads without so much as a second glance. It sickened Emrys to think that Uther's rule had caused the insensitivity toward death. Although she supposed it was only inevitable when the ruler was nicknamed the King of Blood.

Emrys knew better than to underestimate death. She had feared it all of her life. She'd never be able to ignore it the way the people of Camelot did.

The guards standing outside the door to Morgana's chambers checked her contents and let her into the room. Emrys blinked slowly to adjust to the dim lighting.

"Yes, what do you want?"

Emrys' attention flickered to her left, where a girl who couldn't have been much older than Emrys was sitting at a vanity table. The girl's brilliant red hair fell in long waves down her back. Emrys reached up and untangled some of her brown curls, catching her reflection in the mirror.

"Well," said the girl, her tone harsh and impatient.

Emrys remembered that she had been asked a question. "I've come to deliver a tonic for the princess. Where is Princess Morgana?"

"Nevermind that," said the girl. She opened her palm and stood up to receive the vial. "I'll give it to her."

"There'll be no need for that. I'm here," said Morgana as she appeared from behind the purple curtains in the back of the room. "Do forgive me for hiding-I thought you were Vera. She's a sweet girl, but she's not a cook."

"She's horrendous," the girl said, as if that would clear up Emrys' confusion.

"She tries her best," Morgana corrected. "But you don't seem to be Vera at all. Who are you?"

"Emrys...princess." She wasn't sure if that was the correct term, but it sounded formal enough. "Silas sent me with your tonic."

Morgana smiled, making her seem even more lovely. She extended her hand to take the vial Emrys offered, thanking her as she did so.

"So, Emrys," said the girl as her fierce green eyes slid over Emrys. "Why did Silas send you instead of coming himself?"

"Guinevere," Morgana hissed.

Emrys straightened her back, refusing to be intimidated by Guinevere. "Silas has taken me under his roof as an apprentice."

Guinevere smiled as if Emrys had said something funny. "That's an interesting job for a young girl, don't you think?"

"I think it's perfectly acceptable," said Morgana. She glanced at Emrys' basket. "Are those Arthur's vitamins?"

Emrys, assuming they were, said, "Yes, princess."

"Please, Emrys, call me Morgana. There's no need for titles."

"Actually," said Guinevere, "there is a need. That's why we have titles in the first place, isn't it?"

Morgana ignored her. "If you're trying to find Arthur, don't go to his chambers. He'll most likely be found somewhere on the training grounds at this hour."

Emrys gave Morgana something of a curtsey, locking eyes with Guinevere's for a brief moment before leaving the room. She asked one of the guards to point her in the right direction and managed to make her way down without going past Uther's room.

The sounds of swords clashing and laughter came to Emrys as she stepped outside. She'd expected the knights to be paired together, but they were all gathered around in a circle on the other side of the field.

Emrys crossed the field and found an opening in the group that she could squeeze through. Two boys-one obviously a knight-were sword fighting. Though one might have assumed that they were practicing, Emrys thought that it was just a way for the knight to embarrass the other boy.

She took a step backward to avoid the boy as the knight pushed him down to her feet. Closer up, Emrys realized he was dressed in serving clothes. He carried in his hands a wooden sword and shield.

The knight swung his sword around his wrist in figure eights, laughing. "Come on, Reuben," he said as the boy picked himself up. "It's like you're not even trying!" He straightened his helmet.

"My apologies, sire," said Reuben as he hid his lanky body behind the shield. "I'm ready now." His body tensed, and he turned his face to the side to hide it behind the shield.

Emrys managed to see his face before he was pushed to the ground again. His skin was darker than the dirt on the ground, and his twisted curls were the color of brown-ebony. Reuben's wide lips parted slightly when his rich eyes fell on Emrys.

The knight he'd been fighting laughed again. "Honestly, Reuben, you're hardly a worthy opponent. I shall have to find another if you cannot keep up."

"Allow me to accommodate you," said Emrys suddenly. She stepped forward, parting the crowd of knights around her. "Although, I'm almost certain you won't enjoy it much."

A rumble of laughter spread throughout the knights. The knight who'd fought Reuben seemed to laugh the loudest. "I'm sorry," he said as he threw his sword into the ground. "I don't believe we've met."

"I'm Emrys."

"So I haven't met you."

"I try not to make a habit of conversing with joltheads. I find that it doesn't stimulate me in the least."

A knight to Emrys' immediate left flipped some of his chestnut-colored hair out of his eyes. "Perhaps you've been searching for a stimulant in the wrong place. If I may be of any assistance-"

"Does that line usually work for you? Because if it doesn't-and even if it does-it would benefit you to know that I am not as easily impressed as one of your harlots might be," Emrys warned.

The largest of the knights said, "Such a sharp tongue for such a small wench. You'd be wise to mind it, lest I cut it out for you." He raised his sword for effect.

Emrys glanced up at the auburn haired knight, unaffected by his threat. His towering build was matched with broad shoulders and muscular arms. He was probably the second largest creature she'd seen in her life-the first being Baelfire. "I thought giants weren't allowed here. You're the exception, huh?"

"Easy, Percival," said another knight, whose face was covered, as Percival took a step toward Emrys. "Do not forget that we are still in the presence of a woman."

"How chivalrous," Emrys grinned. "Read the knights' handbook every night, do you?"

"Have you only come here to mock me and my knights, Emrys," said the knight Reuben had fought.

"I'll admit that I had planned to do more than this today," said Emrys, turning toward him. "And yet, here we are, aren't we?"

"Perhaps things would be different if you could see who you were talking to." He reached up to remove his helmet.

Emrys raised a hand. "I beg you to leave your helmet as it is. I don't know if I can stomach what lays underneath it."

"D-do you know who you're speaking to?" he asked loudly.

"Of course I do." Emrys had known even before the knight had flung his helmet to the ground. She didn't need to see his aura to know who she was talking to. "You're Arthur Pendragon."

"So you do know who I am," said Arthur, his brows furrowing in confusion.

"Yes."

"And you still choose to speak to me like that?"

**"Is it not customary to exchange insults before a fight?" When he didn't respond, Emrys walked over to Percival and-after convincing him to stand still-removed his gauntlet and threw it at Arthur's feet. "I, Emrys, challenge you, Arthur Pendragon, to a duel." **


	3. Fate in Motion

Something like a chuckle passed through Arthur's teeth. "You don't honestly expect me to accept this, do you?"

"Why wouldn't you? My challenge was completely legitimate," Emrys declared. "Don't be fooled by my appearance, Arthur-I may be a girl, but I can fight as well as any man." Emrys didn't know if beating all the boys in her village counted, but it was the best she had to offer.

"That doesn't mean that you should," said Reuben suddenly. He turned toward Arthur with a bowed head. "Sire, I beg you to forgive her."

"You know this wench," said Percival as he picked his gauntlet off of the ground.

"N-no," said Reuben quickly.

"But you're asking that I forgive her," Arthur noted.

Emrys placed her hands over her hips, dropping her basket to the ground. "That's a pretty big request for someone you claim not to know."

"I don't affiliate myself with silly, little girls," said Reuben indignantly.

"Silly, little girls?" Emrys roared.

"Well, I'd hardly mistake you as a woman. I'd be surprised if you're any older than eighteen."

"I'm seventeen," said Emrys, the temperature in her cheeks rising as the knights laughed. "But women are invented through means of character; just as a boy becomes a man through his strength of heart. How useful is a woman with only a pretty face, who possesses no means with which to provide her husband with a challenge both intellectual and emotional? It would be better for the man to buy a dog, since it would at least assist him in a hunt."

Arthur laughed and stepped forward. "You argue with my manservant like an old soul mate." The knights joined him in more laughter.

"Or siblings," Emrys whispered. She knew Reuben had heard her when he looked away. Emrys turned back to Arthur and said, "You still haven't given me your answer."

Arthur smiled and shook his head, seemingly regarding her with the same amount of patience given to a young child. "I can't accept your challenge, Emrys."

"Is it because I'm a girl? Because I've already told you-"

"That's part of it," Arthur admitted. "But I don't think you know that this challenge you've issued can only end in death, as written in the Knights Codes."

"Yes, I'm aware of that. A tragic end, really, but if it must come to that…"

"You're determined to do this, aren't you?"

"I'm determined to provide you with a worthy opponent."

Arthur laughed once more. "Alright, then, Emrys," he said after the longest time. "I accept."

"Finally," she said, turning to Percival. "I'll need to borrow your sword."

After much prompting from Arthur, Percival handed it over to her. "Careful," he warned, "you might be too small for it."

It was a magnificent piece of work but Emrys couldn't help but note that it was longer than her forearm and much heavier than she'd anticipated. She refused to ask for another sword. "I'm sure you'll find that I can manage just fine. Now, give us room."

Arthur smiled at her, holding his sword in such a way that the light that reflected off of tip blinded Emrys' eyes. "Think you can handle this, Emrys?"

"You've no idea what I can handle. But you're not afraid of me, are you, Arthur?"

"Not in the least."

"Good." Emrys swung her sword to catch Arthur's as it came down on her. Despite her buckling knees, Emrys managed to summon the strength she needed to push Arthur away.

She'd planned on charging him while he was off-balance, but Arthur was quick to get back on his feet. She charged anyway, deciding that this was better than waiting for him to attack first again.

Arthur twirled around Emrys and poked her arse with the tip of his sword. Smiling as she whipped around to face him, he said, "I thought you promised me a challenge, Emrys."

Emrys lunged at him a second time. "Aren't you a little entertained, my lord?" She jumped when she felt the sharp prod of Arthur's sword again.

"A little," he admitted, holding the sword out toward her a third time to keep her at bay. "I'll admit that this is the most interesting fight I've ever had."

"And I'm just getting started," Emrys huffed. It was at that moment that she realized she was out of breath and Arthur was perfectly fine. Through all of her insults, Emrys had forgotten that Arthur's strength was unparalleled to anything she had to offer.

Almost anything she had to offer.

Emrys threw herself at Arthur to avoid the temptation of using her magic. Too late, she remembered his sword, and Emrys stumbled right into Arthur's arms as she tried to avoid it.

He tightened his grip around her chest, restricting her arms to her side and locking her within his cage of broad shoulders and strong arms. No matter how much she struggled, Emrys couldn't break free of him.

"I must disagree with your earlier statement, Reuben," said Arthur in a loud voice. "As I hold her here, I tell you all truthfully that there may be something yet to define this wench as a woman!"

The knights laughed; Reuben looked away; Emrys' face burned.

Use magic! her insides screamed. It dug into the earth, searching for the power it had to offer. She was beginning to slip out of herself. In moments, she would show him-show them all exactly what she was capable of doing.

Emrys glanced up, catching sight of a pair of silver eyes watching over her, masked behind the clouds. Baelfire's words rang through her mind, mocking her earlier confidence. It was enough to severe Emrys' tie to her magic before she could start to make out the colorful auras of the knights around her.

"I can stop this," Arthur said. His breath was hot in her ear, but it caused a shiver to run down her spine. "I can end your embarrassment right now. I'll call off this fight if you will apologize...and bow to me." His chuckle rumbled deep within his chest.

She wanted to blow him away with air magic. She wanted to reveal her power and dare him to laugh at her again. She wanted him to realize exactly who he was in the presence of.

The dragon eyes had left. Emrys pulled an image of the severed heads to the front of her mind, quelling her emotions long enough for her to think clearly. She didn't need magic; she had a good head.

She stamped on Arthur's foot, forcing him to fold over her. Before he could straighten up, Emrys pushed up on her legs and crashed her head into Arthur's nose. She saw more than the colors of the auras around her as Arthur dropped her to the ground. Emrys scrambled to her feet, trying to think about her next move.

Arthur rubbed his nose and faced her. She realized that, despite her size, she was not quicker than him and lacked the years of training he had against her. It would only be a matter of time until she landed in her previous situation again.

She glanced up to see Arthur running toward her. On impulse, Emrys raised her sword, aimed for his head, and released it into the air. When he threw himself out of its pathway, she charged and brought him to the ground by his waist. She leaned forward, wrenched his sword from his hands, and propped herself up on one knee for balance. The tip of his sword was pressed into his neck hard enough to bruise.

His breathing was short and strained, and his eyes were wide with apparent shock. She wondered what he thought of her now, with his life in her possession.

If he thought she wouldn't take his life, he was wrong. Emrys mulled over the idea as she stared into Arthur's eyes. If there was any reason for Emrys not to take his life, she'd find it there.

His eyes held nothing. There was no fire within it, no desire to live. She doubted he would struggle against her if she were to press down on the sword. There was nothing great about this spoiled prince whose wide eyes begged for mercy. But he did not want to be saved; he wanted her to take his life. She was vaguely aware of the knights unsheathing their swords behind her.

Leave him, her magic ordered her. It growled and paced in its cage, begging her to make a decision. Finish him, another voice told her. This one was much darker; Emrys hadn't heard from this voice in a while.

Something held Emrys there above Arthur. With a bone-chilling thought, she realized that her magic had once again locked onto the earth's power. Arthur stared back at her as if he could see her mental struggle. He shifted ever so slightly underneath her, as if he was testing her hold on the sword. His hair fell over the grass, mixing in with her fingers.

Her stomach folded over itself eight times; her mind reeled with ancient chants; her heart strained to beat against the crushing force of the earth's magic. The only thing holding her there, keeping her rooted to that earth was this boy.

This boy-this boy who did not desire to live, who knew nothing of the destiny the Fates had written for him, whose blue eyes held hers with such an intensity that she thought he could see into her very soul-she would make him great. She could see it. It had been set this way since the moment she had been born. She couldn't escape it, no matter how much she wanted to.

It was her destiny. And destinies, her dark voice whispered, were meant to be followed.

With a gasp, Emrys broke free of her magic's hold and stood up, planting the sword into the grass. She considered offering her hand to help Arthur to his feet but decided against it. She didn't want to touch him again.

Arthur sat up, one hand around his throat. "You cheated!"

"I won," Emrys said with a frown.

"You threw a bloody sword at my head," he roared, rising to his feet. "Were you trying to kill me?"

"If I'd wanted you dead, I would've taken my chance just now." She crossed her arms over her chest, deepening her frown. "You're not very grateful for someone whose life was just spared. My victory should have called for your death."

"This doesn't count as a victory. You did not win; you cheated!"

"I didn't realize you were such a sore loser, Arthur Pendragon."

"I demand a rematch," said Arthur in a low growl.

Emrys swept Arthur underneath her cool gaze and picked up her basket. "No, thank you, but you've nothing to fear, Arthur Pendragon; I won't brag about this. You're right to say that I haven't been completely fair to you."

Arthur smiled. "So you admit you were unfair?"

"Of course. I never should've challenged you before you had a chance to take these," she said as she handed Arthur his vitamins. "I mean, you never would've won anyway, but at least now you have proof that you were impaired."

"I don't need vitamins to beat a girl in a swordfight."

Emrys' face burned with indignity. "Obviously you don't need vitamins to lose to one either." She glanced to her left, locking eyes with Reuben. "You'll see that your prince takes his vitamins after he's done with his fit, won't you?"

"Where are you going," Arthur demanded as Emrys parted the knights.

"It would seem that now I'm the one in need of a worthy opponent. Until next we meet, knights, Reuben, Arthur Pendragon," she called over her shoulder.

Emrys could feel her entire being scream in protest as she walked away from the field. She shouldn't have met him, engaged him, tempted her fate. Her senses were open to him. Their connection had been established. There would be no escaping her destiny now. Her only hope now was for Baelfire to make her immortal.

As she walked, Emrys became increasingly aware of a pain that was beginning to settle over her stomach. When she reached the castle gate, the pain became so much that she almost doubled over. She did, however, stumble backwards.

Someone reached out and caught her arm, steadying her. "Easy, Emrys."

Emrys knew from the sound of his voice that it was Reuben. She pulled away from him and took a step toward the castle, the pain dulling slightly.

"That was rather unnecessary back there, don't you think?"

"Not when you compare it to you pretending that you don't know me," she shot back. "I'm surprised you're even talking to me now, since you claim that you don't associate with 'silly, little girls'." The words stung even more now.

Reuben ignored her. "I would advise you to choose your actions more carefully in the future, lest you get me into trouble or find it yourself."

"Yes, because we wouldn't want that, would we?"

He was silent for a moment, narrowing his eyes at her. Then, with a sudden movement, he gripped her shoulders and began shaking her violently. "What is wrong with you, Emrys? Why are you in Camelot? It's not safe here. Not for you," he hissed.

Her magic-and her sickness-resurfaced to the top, threatening to bubble over. She fixed her eyes on Reuben's, swallowing her urge. "Let go of me," she ordered.

"Is everything alright, Emrys," said Silas as he came across the pair. He stopped when his eyes fell on Reuben.

Reuben released Emrys and turned toward Silas with fierce eyes. "When you said that you would be taking a ward into your household, you neglected to mention that it was my sister."

Now it was Emrys' turn to look at Silas. "You knew he was here and you didn't tell me?"

Silas rubbed his temple and said, "I was waiting for the proper time. I didn't think the two of you would meet-"

"You sent me to Arthur without thinking that I would chance upon my brother, his manservant?"

"I'm an old man, Emrys! Have some pity on me-I'm hardly perfect and I''m very likely to forget things at my age."

"Did you also forget that I warned you to keep her away from Arthur," Reuben asked suddenly.

Emrys turned on Reuben with fierce eyes. "Who gave you permission to decide such things?"

"Mother did, unless you've forgotten."

"Could you blame me? You haven't even sent me as much as a letter in the past four years yet suddenly you think you can dictate over my life?"

"Your life?" He scoffed. "You mean that horrid destiny the Fates forced upon you? I'd hardly say I'm the one dictating over your life, wouldn't you?"

"That's enough, you two," said Silas sternly, glancing around at the aristocrats who passed them. "Emrys, I think it's time I took you home before the ceremonies starts."

Emrys opened her mouth to protest as Silas prompted her to the gate, but instead she cried out in pain and doubled over.

"Emrys," someone said above her. She couldn't distinguish whose voice it was-maybe both of them had yelled.

A pair of arms pulled Emrys away from the gate, far enough that her pain seemed only minimal. After a few deep breathes, Emrys was able to stand again.

"Emrys, are you alright," said Silas, peering into her eyes. "What happened?"

"I'm fine," she mumbled. "My magic's a little hard to control." She tried not to think about what Baelfire had said.

"It's never been this bad, has it? You've never been in pain before."

"It just started. Ever since-"

"Ever since you made a magical connection with Arthur," Reuben answered. "This is why I wanted to keep her away from him. Don't you remember what the Elders said, Emrys? If you and Arthur share a magical connection, your destiny is set."

"But I haven't used magic all day," cried Emrys, trying not to panic. "And besides, I saw Arthur earlier today and I was perfectly fine."

"Connection," Reuben repeated. "Seeing someone isn't the same as physically connecting with them. When you challenged Arthur earlier, your magical life force must've bound you to him."

"My xoia," Emrys whispered. She was starting to feel sick again, but this sickness came from the uneasiness that the talk of her destiny aroused in her stomach.

"Emrys, you challenged Arthur," Silas exclaimed. "You could be jailed and executed for that!"

"Not now, Uncle." Emrys glanced at the gate. "What does this mean?"

"It seems to me," said Reuben as he pushed Emrys toward the castle, eyeing her reaction, "that your sickness gets worse as you get closer to the gate-farther from Arthur."

"Your magic is literally forcing you to stay by Arthur's side," Silas concluded.

Reuben nodded. "And until you accept it, fate is going to do all it can to force you together."

Suddenly, a terrified scream split the air. Without hesitation, Emrys followed the sound into the castle, where a crowd had already begun to form in an obscure hallway. She made her way to the front of the crowd, freezing when her eyes fell upon the body.

Even in death, the girl was beautiful. Her blue eyes were glazed over, unfocused but peaceful. Her blonde hair was curled underneath her head like a pillow. There was nothing painful about the way her body was slumped against the floor. Had her eyes been closed, Emrys would've thought the girl was sleeping.

But she wasn't sleeping. The girl's death was confirmed by Silas, who parted the crowd of murmuring aristocrats with a firm order.

"That's Vera," Reuben whispered as he edged Emrys to the back. "She was Morgana's handmaiden."

Emrys glanced up at Morgana, who was on the other side of the crowd. The princess had no tears in her eyes, but the lower half of her jaw was set. Guinevere stood beside her, looking at anything but Vera's body.

Without adding much thought to her actions, Emrys left her brother's side and made her way over to Morgana. "Are you alright, princess?"

"She's fine," Guinevere hissed between her teeth, glaring at Emrys.

Morgana touched Guinevere's arm lightly and nodded at Emrys. "Thank you for your concern, Emrys. It's just a shock, is all."

"I'm so sorry, princess."

A door at the end of the hallway burst open, and Uther Pendragon entered, his cloak billowing behind him. He strode up to Morgana without even glancing at Emrys, who avoided his eyes. "Morgana, are you alright? What happened?"

"I don't know-she was like this when I got here." Emrys caught the slightest crack in Morgana's voice. As Uther moved away from Morgana, Emrys offered her comfort, surprised when the princess took her hand.

"Arthur," said Uther suddenly, his gaze passing just over Emrys' head.

Emrys didn't turn around to confirm Arthur's presence. She feared that her magic would explode within her; her control weakened when Arthur's fingers grazed her arm as he reached forward to touch his sister.

She turned her face away so that Arthur wouldn't notice her. Emrys looked at Reuben, taking deep breaths. Her magic was in her throat, clutching her body with a grip so demanding she thought the sickness had returned. But the sickness had gone, disappearing the moment Arthur had arrived.

Sudden panic flashed over Reuben's face. He motioned toward her eyes, which had begun to burn. Emrys knew that, in just a few short moments, her magic would be released.

Without letting go of Morgana's hand, Emrys grabbed her right arm and dug her nails into her skin. She bit back the sting of the physical pain, relaxing as her magic crept away. No blood had been drawn, but a mark would definitely form later.

She wondered what symbol her eyes had taken, what element her emotions had almost called, what manner of death the King of Blood would've demanded. Perhaps he was still in the mood to spear another head.

"Vera's death is quite unusual, sire," said Silas, pulling Emrys away from her thoughts. "I can't figure out how she died. It's a mystery, sire."

"Not a mystery, Silas, magic. There's sorcery in Camelot. It's the one from before," Uther growled. "Arthur, escort our guests to the great hall while I deal with this."

Arthur nodded, every bit the dutiful prince that he was expected to be. Emrys suspected he only played the part well, thinking back to the side of him that she'd seen out on the field.

No wonder she'd found no greatness in him! This Arthur was a fake. The Arthur she'd challenged was nothing short of a prat, but Emrys knew that he'd been real. At least, Prat Arthur was probably closer to being the real Arthur Pendragon than Prince Arthur.

Prince Arthur nodded and led the muttering aristocrats away. As he left, he caught Emrys' eyes. If he recognized her, his face didn't betray it. Arthur continued out of the hall without taking another glance at Emrys.

"Morgana, please return to your chambers," said Uther. "Guinevere will serve as Vera's substitute until I can provide a proper replacement."

"Father, if I may," said Morgana, stepping forward. "I already have someone that I would like to suggest." She pulled Emrys to her side, unaware of Emrys' growing uneasiness. "This is Emrys. With your permission, Father, I'd like Emrys to be my next handmaiden."

Emrys squirmed underneath Uther's stare. The King of Blood studied her intently, his frown deepening with each passing moment. She held her breath and forced herself to hold Uther's gaze.

Finally, Uther shook his head and said, "I appreciate your thoughts, Morgana, but I cannot agree to this. We hardly know this girl."

"Yes, but I trust her to take care of me tonight."

"What else do you have to justify your trust besides your blind faith?"

"Sire," said Silas, "this is the young girl I mentioned taking in. As her guardian, I have been able to observe her, and I can assure you that you need not worry about her character."

Uther returned his gaze to Emrys, hastily saying, "Because I value your consul, Silas, and because I simply have no time to waste on this matter, I will allow this girl to act as Morgana's handmaiden for the night."

"Thank you, Father," said Morgana smiling.

"Arthur's servant Reuben will show you what I expect of you tonight," he said to Emrys. To Morgana: "I will see you at the ceremonies, my daughter." Thought Uther's tone was friendly enough, Emrys could sense the formal dismissal behind his words.

"I apologize for making this decision so impulsively, Emrys," said Morgana as she led Emrys, Guinevere, and Reuben into the next hallway. "Vera was lovely, but she was still one of my father's choosing. I realized as my father was speaking that this was my chance to have a handmaiden that I approved of."

"You approve of this homely wench," said Guinevere, narrowing her eyes at Emrys.

Emrys could feel her magic swelling again. Oh, how it begged to silence Guinevere! Pretty girl, said a dark voice. Pretty girl! Pretty face! Easy to ruin. She almost let it. Instead, she turned toward Morgana and said, "I am immensely grateful for your trust, princess, but I am surprised to find your trust so easily."

"I'm a little surprised myself," Morgana admitted. "There's something about you that I feel inexplicably drawn to. I can't quite put my finger on it, but I just have a feeling that you're very special, Emrys." Morgana chuckled as she entered her chambers. "I didn't realize how silly that sounded until I spoke it aloud."

"Emrys," said Reuben, standing away from Morgana's chambers.

As Emrys turned to follow her brother, Guinevere said, "I would advise paying close attention to what he say if you would like to make it through tonight." A taunting smirk stretched across her face. "I'm afraid I don't have much hope for you."

"Emrys," Reuben said again, this time to stop her from following Guinevere through the door. "Do not instigate this matter further."

"She's the one who started it!"

"Nevermind her, now."

"But she's right, Reuben! I'll never last the night!"

**"You will, Emrys," he assured her. "I'll teach you how to survive in this place." **


End file.
